


An Affirming Flame

by ausmac



Category: Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-23
Updated: 2000-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausmac/pseuds/ausmac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate viewpoint of what might have happened and how two Jedi must make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Affirming Flame

He walked as far as his sad, mangled legs would take him, and then he lay down on the ground, rested his head on his arm and waited for death. As his slid into that final sleep he thought that the cold outside was finally in balance with the cold within. How things had changed in just one day . . . 　

　

Caladyne was famous for its storms. Its thick atmosphere and intense magnetic fields generated fierce weather conditions that battered the surface and filled the sky with lightning displays. Caladynes were, of necessity, a stubborn and resilient people, as well as being somewhat fatalistic. Nothing is as certain as weather, they would say, except that it will turn bad.

Qui-Gon had always had an odd fondness for Caladyne, perhaps because of its very unpredictability. It wasn't possible to be rigid or organised on a world that could change from idyllic to tormented in one daypart. Some people would bemoan their world's ways but the Caladynes had adapted to it, building beautiful structure beneath the ground with tough glass ceilings that let in the light. They could stand in their homes and watch the storms lash the world above, separated from the storm by nearly invisible walls.

The world would have been totally uninhabitable were it not for the three enormous geosynchronous weather platforms that orbited the planet keeping the magnetic fields balanced. Self-sustaining, they were five hundred years old, intelligent and held in the same awe by the people of Caladyne as gods were to a simpler people.

It had been some years since his last visit and a call for assistance to the Jedi from an Agricorps group had seemed a boon. Obi-Wan had never been there, though he'd heard about it, of course, both from course study and from his Master. He was delighted by Caladyne and anxious to try some of the more adventurous activities the world had to offer. Qui-Gon had known reservations, as sport on Caladyne was of a different mindset to other worlds. You didn't just play, you competed: against each other and the elements.

"Master." When Obi-Wan used that tone, Qui-Gon had to smile. It was the "I am not a child" tone that was three-parts sigh and one part affection. "Fallion has assured me it's perfectly safe.'.

"Perfectly safe, Padawan, has a whole different meaning on Caladyne. Did you really have to choose High gliding? Rapidriding is, I am told, very exciting. "

Obi- Wan tucked his hands behind his back and looked up at Qui-Gon, amused. "Yes, it is, very exciting. and I plan to try it too. if we have time. You said choose. I remember you say so."

"I did."

He sighed, nodded. "Very well. Keep in contact, please."

He didn't say be careful. because Obi-Wan was rarely foolish and, besides, it would make him sound like a worrier. As if this boy, among all the souls in creation, meant more to him than anyone - which he did, of course, though he could never know it.

Excited and pleased, Obi-Wan changed into the body-hugging pressure suit required for the dangerous game of riding the thermals on powered gliders. The wings of the gliders were enormous, flexible but strong, built of the special fabric created for Caladyne's crop protection. It could theoretically withstand the strongest winds. Still, many had died doing what Obi- Wan planned to do.

His best option seemed to be to immerse himself in his work so that he wouldn't stand around chewing his knuckles in a very un-Masterly like way. It was a relatively easy job, to help the Agricorps and the planetary agricultural mission with a number of problems relating to trade sanctions, imported crop diseases and possible tampering with the crop shields. Qui-Gon spent the morning in discussion, then went for a lunch break in his quarters on the edge of the town. He walked through the door, turned to take off his outer robe and then - -

he woke numb and heavy-headed and recognised the residual effects of a stunner . Blinking, he looked down and saw he was tied to a chair by durosteel bands around his arms, wrists, ankles and legs. The room was dark, the only light coming from flashes of lightning from a storm beyond the ceiling windows. He saw movement in the shadows, squinted to try and make out a shape.

"Who are you? What is the meaning of this?"

There was a strange sound, a dry rattle of breath. "Meaning? I'd like to know that myself" The voice was a raspy whisper but familiar still, and a chill rush of prescience made Qui-Gon's hair stand up.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"A ghost A dead person.. You know, one of those tired clichés that comes back to haunt you. Fate. Destiny. Your just desserts."

He stepped forward into the strobing light and Qui-Gon's heart leapt in shock, as if the lightning had struck him.

"Revenge, there's another one," Xanatos said. "Payment in full."

He paused and smiled out of a face like some child's clay plaything, all mismatched flesh and bone, a mass of scar tissue, a scrap of hair, but little else beyond the eyes. They watched Qui- Gon with a sort of hungry intent.

"Aren't I a sight? All your doing, my Master. Your finest work. And I was so attractive, too."

Qui-Gon pulled at the straps binding him but they were well-set and barely moved. His lightsaber was gone and although Xanatos was no Jedi, he was strong enough to keep a half-stunned tied Jedi under control. "So you have come all this way just to kill me, Xanatos? I'm sorry for what happened to you, but it was your choice, after all."

The young man walked back and forth, the long black ground swirling around him. His gait was uneven and slow and the hand that appeared briefly to push the hood of his gown away from his face was mottled and missing fingers. "I know, I do know. Yet it's just the final act of a long play, Qui-Gon. And truly, I am not going to rationalise it with you. I'm dying. you see, a bit more slowly than you thought, but still dying." He stoped in front of Qui-Gon and bent forward so that the Jedi Master could see the savaged ruin of his face. "Do you know, it was cold, that acid. You'd think it would have been hot, burning, but it was cold. Like liquid ice, ripping off my skin, seeping into my brain - I'm quite sure it got through to my brain, no matter what the Healer I paid to fix me said.

I feel it sometimes, the little cold tendrils of acid in my head, chomping away. It hurts more than you can possibly imagine. The Force kept me alive, the Force and the hate. When the cold got through to me over the last months I would just think of your and Obi-Wan and then the hate would warm up my belly."

Qui-Gon ran through options in rapid succession, but none of them seemed suitable. He suspected there was little chance of using rationale and he swallowed down the sudden fear that perhaps this time he would die. So many narrow escapes, in a life of risks and chances, balancing between success and fatality. He tried to think but it was difficult in the face of Xanatos' hate. Yet even with the fear , he felt a rush of grief for what had been and was no more. He couldn't help seeing the brilliant child he'd taken as Padawan, a sad shade standing in the ruin's of this man's life.

His voice echoed that memory. "Will killing me heal you, Xani?"

Xanatos stood back up and arched his head back up towards the sky. "No. Killing you won't heal me." He looked back down, eyes wide. "But you killing your Obi- Wan will help."

"You're insane!" It came out before he could stop it, as he surged upright, ignoring the skin tearing beneath the bindings. "Leave Obi-Wan out of this! This is between you and me."

"It is, but he's got a very important part to play. Right now there is a programmed drone heading for the primary platform. When it hits it will obliterate the station and the other two platforms will almost certainly cease operation. How many people," he finished softly, "do you think there are on Caladyne?"

"Xanatos, please. ..."

"I know, exactly. Twenty five million, six hundred and twenty three thousand, two hundred and four. .Give or take a birth or death. When Primary goes out, the storms will explode and lightning strikes will take out millions. When the others go, the atmosphere will be ionized in a day and the rest will suffocate."

Qui-Gon was speechless as shock left him suddenly cold. Xanatos was calm, a teacher lecturing to a captive audience. "You can't do this, killing so many innocent. . "

"Impending death has given me a very relaxed view of morality, my Master. Really, though, its up to you. The drone will pass through the area where Obi- Wan is flying in a few minutes. It's not going very fast, but it has the highest level of stealth capability. No missile or ship on this planet is going to find it unless I want them to. All you have to do," he said softly, holding out a communicator in the palm of his mangled hand, "is call up Obi-Wan and tell him to fly his little ship into the drone. It will blow up safely and you' Il do the Jedi thing and save the world. Of course, your Padawan will die."

Qui-Gon fought against the restraints until his wrists were torn and bleeding. "Let me go. Stop this. I'll do anything you want. Kill me, if you have to kill someone."

"But I don't want you to die." The voice was hoarse and very tired. "Where's the benefit in that? I want you to live, to feel. I can't share the cold with you but there are other things that can eat away at the soul."

Desperation shredded Qui-Gon's control. "You're lying. ..you could be lying. ."

"I could be. Why don't we wait about five minutes and find out. Of course, if you're wrong, about twenty five million people will pay for your mistake. Then again, you can leave him flying up there and maybe he will survive the storms. Don't kill him. Either way, I win."

"'Win! What do you win, Xanatos? Gods, what can you win from this?"

"You'll see, just wait." He held out the communicator again. "Speak, or not. Your choice."

For a little while, Qui-Gon felt as if existence held its breath, anticipating his choice. Life or death. Do or do not. In that silent suspension he weighed the choices. The Dark said, you love him more than life, let those strangers you don't know die. The Light said, there is no choice, there is only The Way. The Way you have followed all your life, the beliefs you imparted to him. He looked up into Xanatos' eyes, searching for some small hope of pity, and saw nothing but pain. No choice.

"Very well." His heart pounding, stomach leaden and sick, he nodded once. "Tell me where it is."

　

　

Obi-Wan was on his highest run when the call came through. He'd half-expected it - Qui-Gon was calling to check on him. He smiled and flipped on the phone in his chinpiece. "Master, everything is fine, I'm having a good flight."

"Yes, Obi-Wan. There is - a problem."

That powerful prescience he was gifted with suddenly hit Obi-Wan with a chill of foreboding. "What is it?"

"There is a drone, an armed drone, on course for the Primary platform. No-one on the planet can do anything in time. Only you can stop it, Padawan."

He looked about, searched the cloud banks and patches of sky. "I don't see anything."

Qui-Gon sent him a set of co-ordinates which he fed into his little navcomp. When he turned to the co-ordinates he found the drone almost immediately. It was big, bigger than his little flyer, and though he tried to budge it off course with his Force strength, it didn't move. Too fast, too hard to concentrate on flying the ship and moving the drone.

"Master, I can't move it. Aren't there any defence fighters we can call on?"

"No time, Obi-Wan. You have to stop it. Do you understand?"

For a moment he didn't, and then the meaning hit him. His body tingled in a rush of fear and he swallowed as he tried to steady his hands on the controls. 'Yes. ..yes, I understand."

He wanted to beg for another way, to ask to be excused, to plead inability, to say, Master, I'm only fourteen, could I have a few more years of life - but he couldn't. "I. .yes, I can stop it"

"I known you can, Obi-Wan."

He busied himself aligning the flyer, opening the power throttle full, thinking in a sort of disconnected way that he still had half a reservoir of power which would make a very substantial bang when it exploded --

"Obi-Wan. I don't think I've ever told you how proud I am of you. Of how much you mean to me."

He blinked, wiped his eyes. "I know. I do know."

"So much I wanted to do. Teach you everything I know, cut your braid, see you Knighted, be there with you in every way. Forgive me."

Obi-Wan bit his lip as he aligned the little ship's nose. The Probe was climbing steeply now, nearing the edge of the atmosphere, and he only had moments before it was too late. "I do. Please don't feel bad. Everyone dies, Master. I'd rather have lived to a good old age, but this way, at least I don't live to make a lot of mistakes. I know, terrible joke. If you light a candle in the Hall of Remembrance, Master, I will try and find the light. "

"I will. Not a moment will go by without my thinking of you, my. ...Obi-Wan."

He closed his eyes, and turned into the Light.

　

It was cold. The storm had come, carrying sleet that cut through to the skin like a thousand little knives. Qui-Gon stood waiting for the ship to take him home and thought that Xanatos had been wrong. He'd wanted Qui-Gon's suffering to drag him to that cold Darkness that Xanatos had known, made all up of guilt and loneliness. In fact. Obi-Wan's willing sacrifice had filled Qui-Gon with joy, that he would spend his precious Light so freely, for the good of others.

They had found Xanatos' body out on the plain. The wasted figure was lying on the ground, face upwards, covered by a shroud of snow. Qui-Gon wondered if Obi-Wan's death had given him any peace. He was human enough to hope not.

As for me, he thought, as the clouds parted and the stars shone out, I have the first of many candles to light, one for each day of Obi-Wan's life. When they have all burned out, I will count their light well spent.

 

　

　　

_Defenceless under the night_   
_Our world in stupor lies;_   
_Yet, dotted everywhere,_   
_Ironic points of light_   
_Flash out wherever the Just_   
_Exchange their messages:_   
_May I, composed like them_   
_Of Eros and of dust,_   
_Beleaguered by the same_   
_Negation and despair_   
_Show an affirming flame_

_From "September 1, 1939"_

_WH Auden_

 


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